


my heart no longer belongs to me

by ghoultown



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Beach House, Beaches, Comfort, Curses, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Ghost Hunting, Ghosts, Haunted Beach House, Heavy Angst, Internal Conflict, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Ryan is a Surfer, Sex Curse, Shane Madej Is A Dick, Shane Madej Loves Ryan Bergara, but not really, buzzfeed unsolved - Freeform, kind of slow burn?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-17 10:24:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15459270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghoultown/pseuds/ghoultown
Summary: when ryan rents a haunted beach house for an episode, shane is delighted. a beautiful house, overlooking the ocean, and he gets to watch ryan freak out? perfect.or, the one where shane likes ryan and ryan makes something out of nothing





	1. day one

**Author's Note:**

> this is going to be a several-chapter story, so subscribe if you wanna get updates! i plan to update again tonight and for the next few days (because i've got a really consistent upload schedule atm).
> 
> anyway, this is about to get cute and weird at the same time.

When Shane got the memo that the next paranormal investigation was going to require living at a "haunted beach house" overlooking the near-clear, blue ocean along the North Carolina coast, he said nothing. Ryan had to be joking; there was no way some cushy beach house built in 2007 could even be considered haunted, much less warrant an entire episode on it. When he saw pictures of the house and its view, he said even less than nothing. It was about time he could sleep on an actual mattress during a "hunt" or whatever the fuck they called these, now.

Shane looked up the floor plans. Five bedrooms, three bathrooms, two balconies on each of the two upper floors. Shane thought he had to have the wrong place, so he searched again. And again. Same results. Shane wanted to happy cry, but if he did, he figured Ryan would change the plans. So he said. Absolutely. Nothing.

His suspicions that Ryan had ulterior motives were validated when Ryan, while packing his suitcase, mindlessly said, "Maybe I can go surfing."

"A-ha," Shane said calmly, though his brain was jumping around in his skull. He was sat in a chair in the corner of Ryan's bedroom, his suitcase zipped up and leaning against his leg. "This isn't about the show, this is about you wanting a vacation."

"No," Ryan said, although clearly not trying to convince anyone. "I just figured while we're there, we might as well have fun."

Shane rolled his eyes. "That sounds like a scam."

"No, but just think of it. Opening the episode with a really rad montage of me looking really cool on my surfboard," Ryan held his hands up in a rectangle, setting the scene for Shane, who was smirking, "and then we'll pan over to you, lounging on the beach, looking like an idiot with your big dumb hat and your pale floppy body on the sand."

Shane reached over with a long arm and knocked Ryan's suitcase off the bed, his clothes falling in a mound at his feet. Ryan looked at him, crestfallen and slightly upset that he deserved it.

"Don't call my body floppy, Ryan." Shane said, settling back into his chair with an amused smile. "Beach house or no beach house, I will antagonize the shit out of the place if need be."

Ryan frowned, "Please don't. Shit actually happened at this place."

"Uh-huh," Shane chuckled. "Like, someone at the place, God forbid, didn't get the right brand of surfboard wax or somethin'?"

"Shut up, Shane. Help me repack."

-

"Ryan, this place is beautiful," Shane said, stumbling over his own feet as he pulled his bag out of the back. "Who haunts this place, Tyra Banks?"

"Tyra's alive. That doesn't make any sense," Ryan closed the car door and took a deep breath. "I love the beach."

"God, Ryan." Shane looked out across the road, the dunes rustling with the wind. "This is incredibly peaceful. We should go to the beach before we actually start filming anything. How many days do we have here?"

"Five days," Ryan grimaced as he pulled out a camera and the lens fogged up, "but we could spend some of them at the beach."

"Like, today?" Shane asked almost condescendingly, though he wanted the exact same thing.

Ryan pretended to think before stuffing the camera back into his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. "Yep. I don't know when Teege and Devon are coming but I figure they wouldn't be opposed."

"Let's go upstairs and scope out the place before we go, though. I wanna get changed."

"Oh, good, I thought you were gonna walk into the sea with your jeans on."

The place was gorgeous, Shane would admit. Spacious with an inside balcony, blue and white walls and sliding glass balcony doors. Not to mention the million page DVD case with descriptions of each movie. Yeah, Shane was gonna have a great time.

"I need to go to a surf shop to get some wax because I didn't pack mine, apparently," Ryan appeared behind Shane, who was marveling the layout. "You coming?"

"Yeah, man. Do you want me to film this or are we just gonna objectify my vampire physique?"

"Eh, we can just talk about it in the postmortem if we need to," Ryan shrugged. "You wanna drive?"

"Sure thing, bud." Shane snatched the keys from the air as they were thrown at his head.

The surf shop was about 10 miles out, but on the one stretch of road, it felt like it took hours. Ryan kept messing with the radio while Shane mindlessly stared ahead, stopping every now and then as the Saturday beach traffic built up and then dissipated again.

"Is the place really haunted, Ryan?" Shane asked as the drawbridge began to close a few cars ahead, a cacophony of shouts and car horns surrounding them.

"Yeah. Maybe not Sallie-haunted, but... definitely haunted," Ryan looked out the window, "People say they feel like they're being watched and are victims of sleep paralysis in one of the rooms in the house."

"Fascinating," Shane put the car in park as a boat began to head toward the drawbridge, slow and steady. Taking it's damn time. "Which one of us gets to sleep in that room?"

"I figured both of us. We usually stay in the same room on shoots anyway, I figured we shouldn't break pattern." Ryan turned to look at Shane. "Plus, if we actually get sleep paralysis, I'd want to see your stupid face freak out."

"Eh, maybe we should go one at a time. Alone. I'd like at least one night of restful sleep, please," Shane said, looking at him. "I've never gotten sleep paralysis before, though. Have you?"

"Yes, actually," Ryan muttered. "I still vote that we sleep in the haunted room."

"Maybe for one night when you're feeling particularly vulnerable. But I think we should take turns spending the night alone in the Paralysis Palace on some other nights. For, uh... y'know. Fairness. Of this experiment. Or whatever."

"Sorry, did you say something?I couldn't hear anything you said after fuckin' Paralysis Palace."

"Nah, that's it." Shane put the car back into drive as he saw the brake lights up ahead begin to shut off. "Think about it though, Ryan. I know you're shakin' in your boots to stay in the room by yourself but it'll be a good episode if you sacrifice your sanity."

"That seems fucked, but okay."

"What a cute little store," Shane gushed, just slightly sarcastic, as they pulled into the bright yellow building. "Bert's Surf Shop. You think we can interview Bert about his sleep schedule-"

Shane was cut off as Ryan punched him in the shoulder, hard. "You're being a dick, Shane. The cameras aren't on."

"Like I change for the cameras," Shane chuckled, pulling the key from the ignition. "I'm always the antithesis of you."

Ryan swung the car door open wordlessly. Shane followed, wanting badly to make jokes about the terrible hand-drawn signs or the smell of weed, but he figured Ryan needed a breather from Shane's brilliant and non-stop commentary on his life.

"This is very cute." Shane said, already unable to not say anything as he stepped inside.

"Shane, shut up."

"No, Ryan, look at this." Shane pointed to the turnstile full of sour candy. "This is absolutely adorable."

"Shane, I'm going to murder you."

"Not here, certainly. Look over here, Ryan, there are little stuffed animals," Shane jogged over to a giant shelf full of various marine animals re-imagined as adorable plushes.

Ryan rolled his eyes and walked briskly toward the shelf labelled SEX WAX.

"You know what you can use that for?" Shane asked, suddenly over Ryan's shoulder.

Ryan closed his eyes and sighed.

"To go fuck yourself."

"Shane, just! Go over there, or something. Jesus." Ryan threw his hands up, and Shane smirked but made his way toward the boards, mounted on vertical holders that were reminiscent of elementary school art drying rack.

Shane wanted to touch them, but there were signs everywhere that read "if you break it, you buy it" and Shane didn't want Ryan to have one more thing to reference in the episode that was upcoming.

Eventually, Ryan found him and tossed the wax to him, "You've gotta pay for this, since you're such a dick."

"That's bullshit," Shane muttered, fishing his wallet from his pocket as well.

"Gimme your keys," Ryan held his hand out, "I'm gonna go to the car and turn the AC on."

"You're awfully bratty, Ryan," Shane handed them over.

"Once I get into the ocean, I'll feel better," Ryan gave him a cynical smile and turned to leave.

Shane mocked him silently, rolling his eyes and walking up to the register with a surprising smile on his lips. Jokes aside, bickering with Ryan was the best part of his day. Making Ryan uncomfortable was becoming more and more of a reason to wake up in the morning.

"You surf?" A man in a striped t-shirt emerged from the back room. "I can take ya out to the good waves sometime, if you want."

Shane blinked. "Oh, no. No, I don't surf. My friend Ryan does, though."

The man smiled and rang up the wax before looking him up and down. "It's on the house. Tell your friend to come back anytime."

Shane stuttered for a moment before just smiling. "Thanks man. See ya around."

Shane sauntered out of the store with a pep in his step and a grin on his lips. Ryan saw this immediately and braced for whatever bullshit was about to come out of his mouth.

"Guess what?" Shane asked, sliding himself into the car and handing Ryan the little container.

"I can't wait."

"The surfer guy at the counter just hit on me, and gave that to me for free."

Ryan rolled his eyes. "Sure, sure."

"He said he knows a place that has "good waves," whatever the fuck that means. And you can come back anytime, if you wanna go," Shane changed the gear and put his arm around Ryan's seat to look through the back windshield. "You can go in and ask him if you wanna validate this story."

Ryan opened his mouth and looked over at him, "Why'd he hit on you? I'm the less floppy one."

"Ryan, it's 2018. People find virtually unattractive people cute now," Shane replied, his tone teasing but his words incredibly serious. "Also, ouch."

"I didn't mean it that way, but I guess you're right." Ryan looked out the window. He was silent for a long time before turning to look at Shane, "He would have hit on anyone who walked up to the counter to pay, though."

"Ryan, if you want the surfer guy to hit on you, I can turn around."

"No, I'm just... I'm just saying..."

Shane grinned all the way back to the house, where Teege and Devon were waiting in their van, cameras up and ready. Shane and Ryan quickly did a round of rock-paper-scissors to figure out who would have to go break the news that they didn't want to do any work today. Shane won and did a silent celebration before vacating the car and running across the street, running up the public access point and down to the ocean.

Shane took his jeans off and laid in the warm sand, stretching his fingers out and letting his face warm up. He loved the beach. He loved it even more when Ryan appeared over the dune, wearing a tight wetsuit and carrying a blue surfboard under his arm. Shane would have been lying if he didn't rake his eyes over Ryan once or twice. He would be super lying if he didn't mean the cat whistle he sent Ryan, who glared his way before running into the water, throwing his board out just before himself and jumping onto it.

Teege's shadow appeared over his shoulder, and Shane squinted up at him.

"Dev and I are gonna go to our hotel and feel the place out." He leaned down and flicked Shane on the forehead, earning a heartfelt gasp, "Also, call us next time you're gonna have fun without us."

"I refuse," Shane replied with a smirk, laying his head back down and letting his skin feel the sun for once.

 

 


	2. night one

"Ryan, just tell me which room you're sleeping in, so I can plan accordingly."

"I have all the cameras set up in here, so we'll just sleep in here." Ryan, glasses on and hair wild, gestured to the filming set up with his phone in his hand.

"I already put my shit in the non-haunted room. So why don't you sleep here tonight, I'll sleep in there the next night, and we can go from there."

"Shaneeee," Ryan whined. "Just fuckin' stay in here."

"Ryan, it's the first night. Nothing ever happens on the first night. You'll be fine in here alone."

Ryan stared at him. "But what if something does?"

"I'll FaceTime you from the other room."

"What's the point, if you could just stay in here?" Ryan shook his head, "Shane, please. _Please_."

"All I ask is that I get at least one night of restful sleep. If you wake me up with your whining or your screams, I will go back to the comfortable mattress in the other room, and I will not come back." Shane flopped onto the twin bed that he would never comfortably get his limbs to fit on.

"Thanks," Ryan muttered, going back onto his phone. "I'm trying to figure out what we're supposed to do if we have sleep paralysis."

Shane turned his head to look at Ryan, "Well. First, we check to see if we can move. If we can't..."

"No, I mean, like... If I'm paralyzed, how am I gonna tell you to wake me up?"

"Every time you stop moving, I'll just jump on you."

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Every time? Dude, when you sleep, you don't move."

"I'll be able to tell," Shane said. Ryan still wasn't convinced. "How about this. I'll just ask you if you're okay if I think you're paralyzed. If you answer, I won't pounce."

"What if I'm asleep normally?"

"You talk when you sleep, so it won't be a problem." Shane reached into his front jeans pocket.

Ryan turned his phone off, "Well, it won't be a problem for you, 'cause I'll know if you're paralyzed if you stop snoring. Because you snore."

"I know," Shane looked at him. "You okay? You're a bit crabby."

"Am not," Ryan said, incredibly crabbily. He closed his mouth. "Well, maybe I am. But I don't know."

Shane waited, watching Ryan's face transform from confusion to terror.

"What if it's the house, dude?"

"It's not the house, man." Shane pushed himself up on his elbows and propped his chin up on his hand. Ryan looked at him helplessly, "You're just stressed out about somethin', I bet."

"Nope. Not stressed. I'm possessed." Ryan buried his head into his hands.

"To be fair, I offered to take this room tonight."

"Yeah, but nothing ever happens on the first night, so I figured."

Shane sighed. "Do I need to run out and get you some Nyquil or something?"

"No," Ryan rolled onto his side. "I just feel weird here. The energy is bad."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"It's the beach, Ryan. How bad can the energy be?"

"Bad enough," he sat up in the bed. "How are you just... fine? Don't you feel weird?"

"I feel weird because you feel weird," Shane admitted. "I feel like... okay, but I'm worried. You're acting up, today."

"Acting up? Like a kid?"

"Yes." Shane gave him a soft smile, "Seriously, though. Please tell me how can I make you feel less weird, because this frankly upsetting."

"Can we...?" Ryan stopped his question short, "Nevermind."

Shane recognized the dull fear in Ryan's eyes. Sure, he liked to mess with the guy, but genuine fear was painful to see in those beady eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Ryan said with finality. "I'm good."

"Well, you know where I am, if you need anything." Shane stood to untuck the sheets and plug in his charger. Ryan hummed in agreement.

Hours later, Shane was awake. Not plagued or paralyzed or scared, just awake. Staring at the ceiling while Ryan breathed deep and easy a few feet away from him. He laid on his back, his hand on his stomach, rising and falling with each breath. He was restless, but exhausted. He wanted to do a million things at once, but his body was so heavy on the mattress.

Ryan shifted in his sleep, mouth falling open, a content noise erupting from his throat. Shane rolled over in bed and checked his phone. Four in the morning. Cool. Shane was no stranger to all-nighters, but there was often something he could do or something he had a reason to stay up for. But the whisper of the ocean was right outside the window and Ryan's breathing was so far away but yet so close to his ear, and his heart didn't really feel like it was beating anymore.

Shane pushed himself up from the bed to walk around the house, to investigate by himself. Shane took one of the handheld cameras with him, mounting it on the flexible stand that hung around his neck.

"So... I can't sleep," Shane said, pushing the door closed behind him. "So we're gonna go on a ghost tour! Haunted ghost tour. Good stuff. You wanna see the kitchen? It's down the stairs. Has a fridge and everythin'."

Shane padded down the stairs, babbling some nonsense that Ryan would have to filter through during editing. But it made him feel less alone in the creaking house, so he refused to stop.

"Here," Shane opened the fridge. It was empty, "We have a flawless replica of my college dorm fridge."

Ryan would have laughed at that.

"I wanted to go for a walk on the beach," Shane whispered, turning and walking down an unfamiliar dark hallway in typical Shane fashion. He felt the tile of the kitchen transform into warm carpeting as he walked, "but I figured I shouldn't leave lil' Ryan all alone in the spooky, cushy beach house overlooking the sea. He'd die."

Shane walked further into the dark. The house creaked and the floor groaned under his footsteps.

"You know, if Ryan was doing this..." Shane didn't finish the sentence as he reached the end of the hallway. "Oh, this is pretty cool. Look at this painting of the beach."

He turned the camera to face the painting with a sigh.

"Sorry this wasn't much of a tour. I don't even think this'll all be in the video, but it's a comfort." Shane started heading back toward the stairs. "Getting up and moving my ol' legs around really made me sleepy. So. Long Legs, signing off."

Shane turned the camera off and returned to the bed. He had to fold his legs to fit himself underneath the covers, but he fell asleep nearly immediately afterwards, his arms trapped beneath his body and his head full of waves.


	3. day two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any mistakes, I’m in a car for 6 hours and typed this on my phone. Oof. If you’re likin this so far, feel free to comment!

"How'd you sleep?" Ryan asked as he stumbled down the stairs, his phone and charger in hand. 

"Like a baby," Shane replied, honestly. He was standing in front of the drip coffee maker, willing it with his tired eyes and mind to drip faster. "Not at first. I took the camera around for a shitty house tour. But I tired myself out."

Ryan laughed weakly, "You annoyed yourself so bad that you passed out?"

"I guess," Shane shrugged. He knew that Ryan had a restful sleep, but he decided to ask anyway. "What about you? Any spooky dreams?"

"Nope," Ryan popped the word out of his mouth. He slid onto the stool on the other side of the island. Shane turned to lean on the counter, looking at Ryan with amused eyes. "What?"

"That could have been your alone night," Shane teased. "Nothing ever happens the first night."

Ryan rolled his eyes, "Whatever, Shane."

Shane closed his eyes and sighed, "What's all on the agenda today, buddy?"

"I think today we'll just shoot some clips of the other houses, just walk around," Ryan yawned, adjusting his glasses. "I don't know why, I'm just... so unmotivated to do any of this."

"Two things," Shane turned to pour what little coffee there was, too impatient and too tired to care. "One, it's not because of ghosts. Two, no one is motivated at the beach. That's the thing. You booked a vacation and you're surprised that you're not motivated?"

Ryan shook his head. "It's not a vacation, Shane."

Shane hummed, but didn't respond. He took a sip of the coffee. It wasn't good at all, but Shane wasn't in the mood to complain. 

"I really need to sleep in a bigger bed," he said, mostly to himself. "My joints are aching from bein' a little ball all night."

"That's what you get for being a beanpole."

"I was born like this, I can't help it." Shane took another sip and winced. "I think I might just sleep on the floor, tonight."

Ryan wanted to tell him that he didn't have to do that, that he could sleep in the big bed like he originally planned, but the words don't come. He'd rather Shane stay in the room and sleep in the floor than Shane sleep somewhere else and leave Ryan alone in the room of terror. 

"Alright, man," he said, finally. "Just don't hurt yourself, you know? You've still gotta help me with shit."

"The compassion..." Shane whispered with a smile. "But yeah. I don't say it enough, but I'll tease you a shit ton - I don't wanna leave you alone like that."

Ryan smiled genuinely, "Thanks, Shane."

"No problemo, little guy," Shane set his mug down. His eyes were puffy but sparkling nonetheless. "You wanna get breakfast somewhere?"

"Kinda," Ryan unlocked his phone. "I want a good breakfast, though. My body isn't ready for random beach garbage food yet. I'll Google some good places around here."

"Nice. And I will contribute my two cents as usual," Shane took two steps forward, leaning on the island. He looked at Ryan. Maybe for too long. Maybe his eyes were too soft, because they felt like it. He blinked a few times and tried to smother the softness. Ryan looked back just in time to see Shane, soft-less.

"Beach Shop and Grill," Ryan said out loud, gauging Shane's reaction.

"So, we get to..." Shane raised his eyebrows, sporting a goofy smile. "Shop while we grill?"

"No, but it's a four-point-five star casual restaurant and they have quiches," Ryan waggled his eyebrows in response, "You game?"

"So game. Lemme put... pants on," Shane looked down to himself with sad eyes. "I'll be right back."

Ryan shamelessly watched Shane walk away, his eyes straying. He gave himself a hearty "no homo" before Shane turned the corner to go up the stairs. 

Breakfast hit the spot. Shane hadn't had classic restaurant breakfast food in awhile, and Ryan needed to wipe his brain of all the work he had to do, if just for an hour and a half. Maybe best of all - the coffee was divine. Shane made an incredibly sensual noise after his first sip and Ryan became increasingly fascinated with the menu.

“What kinda shots do you wanna get today?” Shane slipped his fingers underneath his glasses to rub at his eyes. “Should we go back to Bert’s and check in on my boyfriend?”

Ryan bit the inside of his cheek, “No.”

Shane paused and peered at him, “Nothing else to say?”

“No,” Ryan said. He fiddled with a sugar packet before adding, “He’s not your boyfriend.”

“Ha!” Shane doubled over, “You’re so jealous.”

“Nope, just sorry for him.”

Shane waved a waitress over with a smile, “Hey, is there any way we can take a gallon of coffee to go?”

“I’ll figure somethin’ out,” she winked at Shane before walking back behind the counter.

Ryan wanted to scream. “How do you do that?”

Shane looked back to Ryan, his smile dying ever so slightly, “Do what?”

“Just... say normal shit and make people fall in love with you?”

Shane barked out a laugh, “Ryan, what is wrong with you?”

Ryan huffed and sunk down into the booth. He looked out the window, refusing to look at the man across the table.

“I can tell her your number if you want,” Shane offered quietly, his voice devoid of teasing. A beat. “You can sleep with her in the haunted room.”

“Shane, I hate you.”

Shane snickered and thanked the waitress as she returned with 3 styrofoam full of coffee. Shane handed her a $20 tip as they stood to leave. Ryan walked to the door, pushing it open before turning to see the waitress whispering into Shane’s ear. Shane shook his head and murmured something back to her. The girl handed him a phone, and Shane typed something in.

“What was that all about?” Ryan asked as Shane jogged to catch up with him. Shane unlocked the car. “You give her your number?”

“Nah, I told her I have a boyfriend,” Shane smiled and slid into the driver seat. “But she’ll text you later.”

“Shane.”

“ _Ryan_.” Shane’s smug energy was making the car unbearable.

“Do I really have to be ugly to get hit on in this time and age?”

“Yep,” Shane said quietly. “Dunno if you’ll ever get to be as ugly as I am, though. So, in your dreams.”

Ryan looked at Shane, wondering if he struck a nerve. But he was still pissed off so he didn’t say anything. The car ride back to the house was longer. Ryan’s arms were too heavy to reach forward and turn on the radio, and he couldn’t stop staring at the side of Shane’s head.

Truth be told, he really wasn’t ugly. At all. He was fine. The fact that he was feeding into what was clearly one of Shane’s biggest insecurities made his heart feel a little empty. But he was too proud in the small, smothering car to say he was sorry.

“You fallin’ for me too?” Shane said after a long pause.

Ryan sputtered and turned away, “No, justtrying to figure out how people could look at you and want to see that face every morning when they wake up.”

That was mean, Ryan would admit.

“You do,” Shane replied calmly.

Ryan didn’t know why that was a comfort, but it was. His arms regained control and he reached up to turn on the radio, music flowing through the speakers and wrapping around Ryan’s head, pulling all of the tension from his shoulders.

Shane parked in the driveway with a sigh, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “The crew are on their way. You have some specific places you want to shoot?”

“Yeah,” Ryan’s voice was shaky. The guilt was slowly but surely eating away at him. He’d literally checked out Shane in his underwear that morning, how the hell did he think it would be okay to be so rude. Still, some part of him, deep in his brain, refused to apologize. So he didn’t.

He jumped as someone knocked on the window. Shane peered in, gesturing to the house.

“We’re here. Do you need more coffee? You’re acting weird.”

Ryan opened the door and shook his head, “No, I’m good. I just zoned out for a moment.”

Shane nodded once. “Alright. You feel okay?”

“Yep. All good.” Ryan smiled up at him.

Shane stared at him for a second before seeming convinced. “Alright, bud. Let’s grab all the equipment we need. You should look up some addresses of places and call in to make sure they’re fine with some ghost hunters taking videos of their establishments.”

“I’ve done this before, y’know.” Ryan followed Shane up the stairs.

“Yeah, but you’re being weird today. I was just making sure,” Shane shrugged, holding the door open for him. Ryan stumbled inside. “You need to get changed though.”

Ryan looked down at himself and couldn’t even argue. “Will do. Do you need to?”

“I look like this all the time so it doesn’t matter.” Shane disappeared around the corner to put the coffees up before Ryan could say anything.

Every place Ryan called was ecstatic about their visit - apparently, any business was good business. With the Mothman episode, they had gotten a call from the coffee shop that they’d sold more cookies and coffee in the last few months than in the pay two years. He wasn’t a douche that would name it “the Buzzfeed Unsolved effect,” but it was an effect nonetheless.

Shane and Ryan had gotten statements from the people that lived around and the restaurant owners - the house was haunted by a husband and wife that had bought the house in the early 2000s. They had died in a double suicide after learning that their locally owned business was going bankrupt.

“That makes sense,” Shane said, turning to Ryan. “People that live in expensive houses on the beach often can’t handle hardship. Especially with their money.”

Ryan rolled his eyes, “There’s more, but I have to keep it a secret until we film everything else.”

Shane groaned. “Where are we gonna set up the chairs and do the discussion? I vote the rocking chairs on the balcony.”

Ryan glanced over to where Mark and Teege were pointing toward a putt putt place across the street. “That would be cool. The lighting might not be great, though.”

“We’re not submitting this to a film festival, Ryan. And I love rocking chairs.”

“They’re creepy,” Ryan mumbled.

“All the more reason to film in ‘em,” Shane raised his eyebrows. “Please? If I have to sleep on the floor, you have to let me have this.”

“You’re sleeping on the floor?” Devon appeared behind Shane. “What, is Ryan offering you as a sacrifice for the rich ghosts?”

“No, he just can’t fit his inhuman body on the twin bed.”

“Why can’t you just push the twin beds together?” Devon asked in passing, walking back to where the cameras were.

Ryan shook his head as he watched her leave.

Shane made a face, “It’s still gonna be too small, length-wise.”

“Yeah, but you’ll have more space,” Ryan said quietly.

“Eh, I’ll sleep on the floor tonight. If that doesn’t work, we’ll push the beds together.” Shane paused and looked at Ryan, “If that’s okay with you, obviously. I don’t think there are enough pillows for a boundary, though.”

“I don’t care,” Ryan shrugged.

Shane nodded, looking down to his feet. His shoulders were tense and his eyes were revealing some conflict in Shane’s head. Ryan opened his mouth to apologize, to say something, to say that Shane wasn’t ugly, to say that Ryan wanted so badly not to sleep alone, but Teege ran up to them and begged them to get hot dogs at the pink building a few blocks down.

“Sure,” Shane said with a smile. He looked to Ryan. “Wanna come?”

“Yeah.”


	4. night two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're finally getting somewhere.........

"That girl still hasn't texted me," Ryan said mindlessly while he scrolled on his phone, his legs dangling over the edge of the bed. Shane was in the doorway, his arms full of the fluffiest duvets he could find in the closets. Maybe, just maybe, if he layered them all on the floor, it wouldn't be as miserable to sleep there.

"Ryan, I swear to God," Shane threw his mound by his feet and began to layer accordingly. He was still on edge from the earlier statements regarding his looks, and the annoyance was bubbling to the surface. "We can go to a bar tonight, if you want to pick someone up that bad."

Ryan shook his head, "No, it's fine, I'm just... y'know. Lonely, and all that."

"Y'know, dude, the only reason people have been approaching me is because I spoke to them first. If you would have paid, like you said, he would have asked you out. And if you were the one to smile at that waitress, she would have given you her number." Shane was straightening out the blankets, making sure they were perfect, before pivoting and grabbing another one. "Don't be too hard on yourself."

"Sorry, man. I'm just out of it." Ryan stood to set up the cameras and make sure the microphones were working properly. Anything to keep him from looking at Shane. Anything to keep his palms from sweating. And, mostly, anything to keep himself from saying something he'd regret.

Shane was being incredibly kind, as far as the rest of the day was concerned. Ryan had to take a break from being so... what was the word? Oh, right. Ungrateful.

"I'm sorry," Ryan said, so quiet that he almost didn't know he said it. The quiet words were a red hot bullet aimed for Shane's ear, and when they hit, Shane jumped.

"For what?" Shane asked, turning his head just slightly over his shoulder. Not wanting to look Ryan in the eye. Not wanting to look like an idiot if this was going to be a joke or an Instagram story or something.

"For, uh." Ryan held the camera down, cleaning the lens with his shirt. His pride swooped in and snatched the words "saying you look ugly" right out of his mouth and replaced them with, "... making you sleep on the floor."

Shane turned back to what he was doing, his shoulders falling forward. "No problem, man. Don't want the ghouls to paralyze ya."

Ryan sighed and moved the tripod over to the corner of the room where it could capture both Ryan and Shane in the frame. Shane placed the final duvet over the stack, and frowned at how hard it still felt under his feet. With a shrug, he pulled on the hem of his boxers and knelt on the floor.

Ryan glanced over just in time to get a few good seconds of Shane kneeling. That was a sight he didn't expect to be enthralled by.

The tall man fell forward, catching himself on his palms, staring down at his pillow for a long time. Just holding himself up. Ryan watched him the entire time, wondering what the hell his friend was doing.

Then Shane sighed and pushed himself back up.

"I'm gonna... go for a walk. On the beach," he groaned as he stood up, placing his hands on his back and stretching. He grabbed his sweatpants from the floor and pulled them on, "I'm too stressed to sleep. You wanna come?"

"No, I'm good." Ryan said, though every part of his body was lurching toward his friend. He sat down on the bed and picked up a camera, waving it at Shane, "I'll set up all this stuff and record a little VO, see if everything flows."

Shane was still, "Ryan..."

"What?"

"Aren't you terrified of this room?"

"Not... not- not right now," Ryan stuttered, voice shaking.

"Really? Even though I just - alright," Shane shrugged and turned his ringer on. "I'll be back in a little bit. Text me if you need anything."

Shane was out the door within seconds. The padding of feet faded. The creak of the front door was audible and deafening, and then there was a slam.

The air was heavy, then. The house was shifting on its stilts, and Ryan took a deep breath and messed with the camera in his hands. He had no intention of doing anything, but now that Shane was gone, the false bravery he'd acquired through his pride was dissipating and he was overwhelmingly exhausted of being alone.

There was a clatter downstairs. Ryan shot up from the bed, the camera nearly slipping from his hands.

"Shane," Ryan exhaled. "What the hell, dude? You can't just-"

Ryan stood and walked out into the hallway, peering over the balcony. Shane wasn't there - just a chair in the dining room table knocked over on its side with Ryan's backpack's contents spilled across the floor.

"Shane?" Ryan whispered. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, turning on his heel, placing the camera on its tripod - and promptly running out of the house and across the street until he could see Shane in the dim light, shining his flashlight toward the sand.

Ryan didn't even yell, he didn't scream, he didn't do much but run until he'd caught up to his best friend, nearly pushing Shane to the ground as he collided with his back.

"What the hel - Ryan!" Shane's hands were on either side of him, grasping at his biceps and staring into his eyes. It was too dim to see much else, but Ryan chose to focus on the shadow eyes in front of him. Shane was bent down to be level with Ryan as he practically scolded him" "I asked you if you wanted to come, I checked to see if you'd be alright by yourself, you told me you would be! I didn't believe you but... y'know, Ryan, I wasn't gonna force you out here, but this is frankly ridiculous."

"I'm. I'm, I'm sorry, I... ghost. Pushed a chair over. You're out here. Something's in there, I... I... I..." Ryan's entire body was vibrating, shaking, convulsing underneath Shane's palms. He closed his eyes, his breath sputtering like a car engine underwater. "... scared."

With his eyes closed, he could focus on the noise of the ocean, better. The feeling of nearly-cold sand between his bare toes, the lukewarm breeze through his hair and up his sleeves. Then, real warmth. Shane's arms around his shoulders, Ryan's head against Shane's chest and just under his chin. Ryan seamlessly grabbed fistfuls of the thin fabric of Shane's shirt, taking short and quick breaths. Shane was a very nice and very functional oxygen tank.

"Ryan, it's okay, man." Shane's voice was quiet, the breeze dragging it away before it could completely reach Ryan's ears. "I'm sorry I left you."

"I'm not a kid," Ryan managed to get out, tightening his grip on Shane's shirt. "You're allowed to go outside without me."

"Yeah, but not now," Shane's chest hummed. He let go of Ryan, but Ryan held firm. "It can't get you out here, bud. Let's go for a walk."

Ryan shook his head. "Can I just stand here for a second? I think I'm crying?"

Shane rolled his eyes, removing his hands from Ryan's back. "So you can use me as a tissue? No, thanks. Let's walk, Ryan. The moon is huge. Look."

Ryan opened an eye, turning his head ever so slightly to see. The moon was practically floating a mile away in the ocean, bobbing up and down, so close Ryan could reach out and touch it.

"It's the lunar eclipse tomorrow," Shane told him, patting him on the back. "Crabs are freakin' out, if you wanna see some."

"...Crabs?" Ryan opened his other eye. He could see Shane a little better now, underlit by his phone flashlight. It made him feel better. He glanced down to Shane's shirt. "Sorry I cried on you."

"No problem." Ryan waited for a joke, but nothing came. "It's what friends are for. Can you walk, or do I need to carry you?"

"I'm okay," Ryan's voice was gravelly. "What kind of crabs?"

"Dunno. Not a crab expert. But I saw, like, five before you got here." Shane felt fire shoot through his skin - Ryan accidentally brushed against the skin on his hip as he grasped the hem of Shane's shirt. "They're not big, Ryan."

"Yeah, but I'm barefoot and I don't wanna lose a toe."

"Their pincers are small too, Ryan, but alright. Wimp," Shane laughed, and Ryan smiled in the dark.

They walked for a mile, only speaking to point out crabs scuttling into their burrows in the sand or to gush over how ginormous the moon was. No other words seemed important, then. Except for the ones hanging on Ryan's tongue, a real apology. But, of course, he was too nervous to bring it up, to taint such a nice time with hours-old sour memories.

Shane beat him to it. They sat just on the edge of the wet sand, propped on their hands and letting the water lick their toes. Shane sighed, clearly thinking about something but unsure of how to say them.

"Am I really ugly, Ryan?" He decided to say.

Ryan turned his head to look at Shane, whose face was calm save for his eyebrows that sat lower on his nose than usual.

"I mean," he continued, "I know I'm not like... George Clooney, or whatever. But I'm not... undateable, right?"

"You're not ugly, Shane," Ryan sighed. "Sorry I said that."

"It's okay," Shane nodded, letting his body sink into the sand. "Just checking."

"Why?" Ryan mimicked his actions. "Would it even really matter if I thought you were, though? You're getting mad attention."

"Yeah, but... I don't know." Shane turned his head, cheek to the sand, looking into Ryan's eyes. "I feel like your opinion of me matters more than other opinions, sometimes."

Ryan's breath was knocked out of him, so he simply nodded.

"We should head back," Shane checked his phone. "Big day ahead, tomorrow."

Ryan hummed. Shane was on his feet in seconds, holding his hands out to pull Ryan up.

"Something really is in the house, though," Ryan said quietly as they walked closer to the public access point. "It knocked the chair and my bag over, Shane. You weren't even on this side of the road."

"Eh," Shane shrugged. "Maybe your bag was heavy and the chair was uneven."

Ryan groaned, "Shane... just let me be afraid."

"You want me to tell you I think you're right? Because you're not. And if I had, you would have freaked out anyway," Shane saw headlights a few meters down the road and grabbed Ryan's hand, running across the street with the shorter man in tow. "I can't win, you understand."

Ryan retrieved his hand, wiping it on his pants. "Yeah. I'm picky about comfort."

"Gotcha," Shane let Ryan walk in front of him up the stairs. "Do you want to walk with me to the linen closet? I'm gonna need more blankets to sleep on."

Shane stopped just short of going upstairs, walking over to the toppled dining room chair. He leaned down and pulled it upright, hastily gathering Ryan's things. Ryan just looked on silently, wondering if he should help, but his feet stayed planted on the floor. A wave of exhaustion hit him. It could have been the crying or the shock wearing off, but he was ready to drift off into space.

"See, Ryan?" Shane moved the chair with his fingers. The legs were uneven. "Your bag was heavy and it slowly but surely pulled the chair down. Science 1, Ghosts 0."

Ryan wanted to tell Shane off, but his priorities were all out of wack. Even Shane's bright, comforting smile was completely lost in Ryan's quest to get to a bed. Immediately.

"Whatever. Let's just push the beds together," Ryan said through a yawn that effectively masked whatever longing lingered in his tone. "It'll be easier. And you won't complain about your back in the morning."

"Alright," Shane said, gladly. "I like that idea more."

"Why didn't you want to do it earlier?" Ryan and Shane walked side by side up the narrow staircase, but neither complained.

"Because I figured I'm too ugly for you to voluntarily share a bed with me," Shane replied humorlessly. Ryan didn't know what to say, so he just started to push his bed towards the other, Shane mirroring his movements. The bedframes clicked together as they touched, and Shane lugged his stack of blankets on top, just to make sure they didn't fall in between the cracks.

"Do you wanna sleep under the covers, or me?" Shane asked.

"I just want to sleep. I don't care," Ryan admitted.

"You didn't have a heart attack in your first lonely ghost encounter, so you deserve the covers." Shane gestured with his hands to the bed, "M'leige."

"That was the correct answer," Ryan clambered under the blankets, letting out a blissful sigh. "I'm safe."

"You're safe, bud." Shane flicked the light off and turned on the cameras. "Night two, Ryan. Excited?"

"Super excited," Ryan slurred, eyelids slipping closed.

He felt fingers in his hair briefly, but they were gone in the blink of an eye.

"Goodnight, Ryan," he heard Shane whisper.

Ryan dreamt of shadows over his bed and an inescapable warmth.


	5. day three

“This is bullshit," Shane shook his head, rocking contently on the balcony as Ryan read from his phone. He'd gotten his way, they got to look at the ocean while doing their pre-banter clips. He was content. Even as he shot down everything Ryan said. "Absolute bullshit."

"What’sso unbelievable about that?" Ryan gaped at him, "Two pretty rich people lose their money and they don't want to live anymore. If I lost everything, I might do something... y'know, rash."

"I don't know," Shane turned, looking Ryan over shamelessly, knowing that only the audio would be used, "I doubt you'd be that kind of spoiled. Because... I don't know about you, but the vibes I'm getting from this... these are some spoiled ghouls, if I've ever heard of one."

Ryan scrolled down slightly and nodded, "Well, Miriam was born into money and Otto had joined a law firm pretty much days before there was a big boom in... people that needed a law firm, I guess. So, yes. Very spoiled."

"All we have to do to rile 'em up is just... pull out some cash from our wallet and wave it around, then. My job is easy," Shane folded his hands behind his head.

"I wouldn't rile these guys up. They've done some shit."

"What, are they gonna throw a bill clip at me?" Shane looked to camera, "Bring it on, baby."

Ryan sucked a breath in through his teeth with a wary glance to his friend. "Actually, they've managed to rip people's spines out. So."

Shane's eyebrows raised, a smile slowly forming. Clearly, he was excited. "Really?"

"No, but they've driven people to thoughts of suicide and, uh. People say they can see the shadowy figures of a man and woman over their bed. Sleep paralysis. Good stuff," Ryan locked his phone and shrugged, "So... like I said before, they do some shit."

Shane smirked. "Do they flip chairs over?"

"Shut up, Shane."

Banter was easy. Shane was in a weird mood, though. He couldn't quite describe it, but every time he looked at Ryan to say something... something happened. In his chest, near his throat. His brain would short circuit and he'd forget what he was going to say for a second or two. It was strange, like something in his head had lost its ability to speak. 

But he hadn't had coffee yet, so that was a plausible explanation.

The taller man stood from his rocking chair, stretching his arms after the all clear. They were about two-thirds of the way done with everything. All that was left was the EVP and spiritbox readings, and a conclusion. "So, we're doin' a hunt tonight then?"

Ryan looked weary, "Yeah."

"Do I have your permission to antagonize?" Shane asked before adding in a stage whisper, "I'm gonna do it anyway."

"Sure, you dick. But don't rope me into anything," Ryan stood as well, the edge of the seat knocking against the back of his knees. Shane turned the camera off. "We've gotta be careful, though. This isn't an abandoned place, so if they get rowdy and start throwing stuff, we'll have to pay for the damage."

"Oh, Ryan. Where would they get the energy to throw stuff?" Shane lifted his shirt to de-lav himself, pulling the microphone wires loose. Ryan stared at Shane's stomach for awhile, needlessly. "I'm gonna make fun of them for being poor."

"You're gonna get us killed," Ryan practically whined. He wasn't sure why he did, but Shane smiled anyways.

"As long as you're sweet to 'em and you compliment them on their money and riches..." Shane looked up at him, "They're still not gonna exist."

Ryan smacked his shoulder and lifted the tripod. Shane stood in his way. 

"Move," Ryan said with a chuckle, trying to nudge by him. Shane was like a statue. Ryan spared a glance up to find Shane staring down at him. "What?"

"I really don't have to say shit to the fake ghosts if it would scare you," Shane said softly, looking between Ryan's eyes as if searching for an answer. "I know the chair thing kinda... rustled your jimmies."

Ryan couldn't fight back the grin. "Nah, I'm good. Thanks."

"You're not really, but alright. I'm gonna fuck 'em up," Shane stepped to the side, letting Ryan walk back into the house. The cold air paused Ryan's lungs for a moment. 

"Jesus," Ryan handed the tripod to Shane, "Lemme check the thermostat."

"It feels like a winter in Chicago in here," Shane admitted. 

"It's set to 75 degrees," Ryan said, his face pale.

"Ryan, don't-"

"When ghosts are present, the temperature drops-"

"Ryan-"

"How else can it be 100 degrees outside and like... 30 degrees inside? That's crazy-"

"Ryan," Shane was behind him now. He put his hand on Ryan's shoulder, and Ryan jumped. "It's me, hello. Non-ghost, very human here."

"How can-"

"Read the note," Shane pointed over Ryan's shoulder, "Says the 'stat is super broken."

Ryan squinted. Then sighed. Then fell back into Shane's chest.

"Fuck," he muttered. "I thought I was gonna die."

"You're not," Shane said, ruffling Ryan's hair, turning the dial up. "It's alright, man. Nothing's gonna get you."

Ryan nodded. "Nothing's gonna get me."

"Yep. Let's get you upright, though." Shane wrapped his hands around Ryan's shoulders, pushing him forward and onto his feet. "You need some water? Anything?"

"No, I'm good." Ryan shook his head. "This house is messing with my head."

"Mmm, I don't know if it's the house, but..." Shane gave him a timid pat, "Alright, buddy."

Shane guided a shaken Ryan to the kitchen, helping him onto a stool. Ryan pulled out his phone as Shane began to make himself and Ryan cups of cold coffee. He typed in the address of the house, looking for Yelp reviews or something that might reference the odd temperature, but there was nothing. Just glowing reviews with the occasional "couldn't sleep" thrown in. 

"Here you go," Shane slid the cup across the counter-top and gestured for Ryan to drink. "That should wake your brain up a bit."

Ryan shook his head, placing his phone face down. He stared at his hands. "This house is weird."

"Agreed," Shane nodded. His fingertips were tingling and his chest was heavy, but he just took another sip of coffee. "Do you say that because of the temperature thing or... something else?"

Sure, maybe Shane was trying to see if Ryan was having the same issue. Maybe he was trying to push Ryan into admitting that something was wrong, beyond ghosts. Maybe Ryan clearly felt the same.

"It's weird." Ryan spoke after a long pause. "I can't even describe it."

Shane nodded. “Same.”

“It’s not inherently bad, either.” Ryan continued. “I just keep zoning out.”

Shane hummed.

“And for some reason...” Ryan kept his eyes down. He muttered something.

“What was that?”

“I keep thinking about...” He faded off.

“Sorry?”

“I keep thinking about... like...” Ryan sighed. “This is so weird. But I feel like I have to tell you.”

Shane was genuinely worried, now. “Okay.”

“I keep zoning out and like... thinking about you.”

Shane winced. “Like... in a.... murderous way?”

Ryan looked up at him with wide eyes, “What?! No-“

“Because, if so, I’m not comfortable sleeping in the same bed as you,” Shane said, his voice serious, but his eyes slowly crinkling.

Ryan dropped his head into his hands, “Shane...”

Shane laughed, “Sorry, sorry.”

“Am I crazy?” Ryan peeked out through his fingers, “Am I just panicking over nothing?”

“I mean, you’re a little crazy,” Shane pulled Ryan’s hands away, “But I’ve been having the same problem, so not that crazy.”

Ryan breathed out. “Thank God.”

They sat in the comfort of the release of tension. It felt like they’d told each other a secret they’d both held for years.

“So what do we do, then?” Shane asked quietly.

“Once we leave, it’ll probably go away.”

Shane nodded once. Suddenly, he paused and looked at Ryan incredulously. “Ryan, are you saying we’re possessed.”

“...No.”

“Good,” Shane nodded once. “I want to help you out, because I’m a wonderful friend, but I can’t do that if you immediately blame things on ghosts.”

“...But we’re in a haunted house.”

“Beach house. Ryan, it’s a beach house.”

Ryan just laughed. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I think... we should get some lunch.” Shane said quietly. “And I think we can go from there.”

Ryan found himself watching Shane as he smiled and stood, extending a hand.

“Do you need help standing, or are ya just gonna keep thinking about me?”

“Shane, I will kill you.”


	6. night three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter because some shit is coming up lmao

"Well, guys, I've got to say." Shane reached into his pants pocket as he sat in the middle of the bed, Ryan practically cowering in a corner. "I'm not impressed."

"Shane, what the hell are you - "

"I mean, I'm just a producer of videos for the internet, which has gotten much more efficient since you unfortunately left us. I don't make much money, but I'll tell you what." Shane pulled out a few bills from his wallet and held them up, "I'm alive, so I've got a shit ton more money than you."

Nothing happened, that night. Absolutely nothing. No words from the spiritbox. No screaming Ryan. Just a lot of dark and a lot of wasted time.

Teege and Devon packed up early, waving goodbye, because there was no content other than Shane's constant jokes and taunting. Ryan, although disappointed, was incredibly relieved.

After just a few minutes of gathering all of the EVP equipment, Shane and Ryan sat on the couch in the living room, staring out the glass balcony doors to the street lamp outside. Their shoulders were just barely touching, and their hands were on their own respective legs.

"Wanna go look for crabs again?" Shane asked.

"Yeah, why not?"


	7. day four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof. here we go. next chapter is gonna blow ur sox off

Ryan woke up suffocating. He wondered if maybe he had fallen asleep under the covers, which was something he may or may not have done in the past to hide from shadows on the walls. He was too tired to push the blankets off of his head, so he figured his body would know when to come up from air.

This seemed like a good plan until the blanket moved. And hummed. Fingers were clutching his shirt. Ryan reluctantly opened his eyes to see a mop of brown hair resting on his chin, thin arms tangled with his.

"Shane." Ryan whispered. He was out cold.

Shane looked peaceful. Ryan couldn't see just how ridiculous they looked, Shane's long body sprawled out on Ryan's arguably shorter one (though he was still tall, okay?). Regardless, Ryan still couldn't exactly breathe. And damn him, he couldn't look away from Shane's face - undisturbed, no stupid smirk or sparkling eyes or... anything. Just Shane. Just sleeping, on Ryan.

Shane's hipbones were absolutely cutting into him, pressing into his skin. There was just a moment of calm left in Ryan, panic settling into his jaw, so he nudged the big guy off of him and rolled off of the mattress and into the bathroom. Maybe he ran. That was nobody's business.

After he'd showered and gave himself a pep talk in the mirror, he returned to the room to find Shane awake on the bed, glasses crooked and phone in his hands.

"Morning," Shane said, his voice deep and hardly working.

Ryan just nodded in response.

His thoughts weren't necessary. His entire head was full of screaming about the man on the bed. None of it was platonic. None of it was comfortable. Ryan just kind of... stood in the doorway, staring at him.

Shane's eyebrows drew together, "You alright, dude?"

"Yep. Good. Great."

Shane clearly wasn't convinced. "Ryan, what's up? Did your toothpaste fall again?"

Ryan shook his head, "No, asshole. I'm doing fine."

After a moment of deliberation, Shane decided Ryan would tell him if something was really that bad. "Alright. You wanna go get food?"

Ryan could picture Shane and himself across a booth, holding hands, having a good time.

"No," Ryan said.

Shane raised his eyebrows, which made him look "incredibly kissable," according to Ryan's head. "Well... I'm going to. Maybe some alone time will get all this grumpiness out of your system."

Ryan watched as Shane stood up and took his shirt off - FUCK - and bent down to dig for a new one - SHIT - before standing back up and trying to figure out if it was inside out.

Ryan's feet were moving before he knew it. He placed a hand on Shane's exposed bicep. His skin was soft and warm and very, very nice. Shane looked at him, curious. The smirk was back, and Ryan welcomed it.

"I want to go to get breakfast, actually," Ryan said. His voice sounded different.

"Ohhhkay, weirdo," Shane gave his hand a gentle, awkward pat. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

"I want to."

"Yep, alright. I'm gonna... need my arm back. To put my shirt on."

"Alright." Ryan said, letting a few more seconds pass before retrieving his hand.

"Y'know, Ryan, for someone who probably has "No Homo" tattooed on the inside of his eyelids," Shane pulled his shirt over his head, his hair sticking out even more, "... that was pretty gay."

Ryan gaped at him, whatever trance he was in immediately dissipated and he took several steps away. Shane's smirk died on the spot, expecting some frat-boyish insult, but Ryan looked more flustered than anything.

" _You're..._ fuckin' gay," Ryan said like a true gentleman before leaving the room. He cursed Shane's laughter that followed him down the stairs.

Usually, Shane was able to keep his little crush on Ryan on low. He could hold it in his hand or in his mouth and it wasn't too hard to deny things. Any time he'd make a joke that was edging on inappropriate, Ryan would say something equally as bad and Shane could just ride on that. It used to be easy. But it wasn't anymore. Not now that he knew that Ryan was thinking of him as well. It just seemed so difficult to pretend like things were normal, now.

Especially when Ryan randomly puts his hands on him. When he's shirtless.

Shane let Ryan drive to the place, finally. Shane knew Ryan liked to be in control of something, and the majority of the beach trip had Shane behind the wheel. The shorter man's shoulders grew less tense as soon as he sat back in the driver's seat.

"Feel better?" Shane asked, his eyes ahead.

"Yep," Ryan flexed his fingers on the steering wheel.

"Where are we gonna go?" Shane turned, "Assuming you don't wanna shop while you grill, today."

Ryan cracked a smile, "We can shop while we grill."

Shane cataloged Ryan's willingness to make him happy in his brain, inside the folder labelled Reasons To Tell Him How You Feel.

Upon entering the building, the waitress that still hadn't texted Ryan appeared to guide them to seats, giving a sincere apology that she hasn't had much free time.

"It's alright. We've been busy as well."

Shane gave Ryan a look.

"What?"

Shane looked to the waitress with an apologetic smile, "We've been doing absolutely nothing. But ring him whenever you can. Also, we're gonna start with coffee. Thank you!"

She nodded and turned to grab mugs for them.

"I didn't say I wanted coffee," Ryan muttered.

"But you do," Shane picked up a menu. "You gonna get something different today or...?"

Ryan stared.

"Same as last time, then?" Shane peered over the menu, raising an eyebrow at Ryan's dazed look. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Tired." Ryan tried to blink away the image of Shane, shirtless, under his hands. Damn Shane and his soft, stupid skin.

"I've seen you sleep deprived, Ryan. Pretty sure that isn't it." Shane gives him a scolding look, but it softens. "But alright. I'll let it slide."

"Let it slide?" Ryan rolled his eyes, "You're not my dad."

Shane smirked and gave a quick wink before turning to the waitress that was approaching. She set the mugs and thermos on the table. "Thank you."

"No problem," she replied with a frankly frustratingly bright smile. She glanced at Ryan, "Ready to order?"

"He'll have the same thing as last time," Shane spoke up. "So will I."

"Sure thing."

When she walked away, Ryan pouted at Shane.

"I can order for myself, I'm not a kid."

"You look like one. Especially now. Tuck that lip back in." Shane smiled at him, which made Ryan even more frustrated.

"You're... just, acting weird."

"I'm acting weird?" Shane gestured to his friend with one hand while he poured coffee into his small white mug. "You've been off since we got here, dude. And it's not because of ghosts."

There Shane went again, trying to get to the bottom of things. Trying to see if Ryan was as interested as he thought.

"People have reported thinking differently," Ryan said quietly. "It makes sense."

"It really doesn't. Having thoughts of suicide is, I hope, much different than having thoughts that I just happen to be in," Shane leaned forward, his voice hushed, "It's really hard to be a good friend when you're either pouting or making fun of me."

Ryan frowned. "You are a good friend."

"Yeah, because I know you. You've been disinterested before, but like... this is different. Right?" Shane pushed the thermos toward Ryan, "There's only so many times a guy can ask his bro if he's okay."

"Don't call me your bro," Ryan winced. "You say it weird."

"But you're my bro." Shane feigned a sad face.

Ryan moved his body to face the window. "I don't even wanna look at you right now."

"Eh, you know I care about ya though, so. Mission accomplished." Shane took another long sip.

Ryan's chest ached. He cared about Shane too, but he didn't want to care about him in the way he clearly was. He wanted to leave Topsail Island and go back to the way things were. Because that was all this was. Some weird possession or some weird nerves and he was projecting onto Shane.

That was all this was. He was just confused.

While they were walking out to the car, the backs of their hands accidentally brushed and Ryan jumped five feet into the air.

"Woah, man." Shane chuckled, but his eyes were adorned with worry. "What's up?"

Ryan just shook his head and slid into the driver's seat.


	8. night four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some people have the heavy angst at the beginning and use the rest of the story to fix it? nah

Shane was done with this. Properly done.

Every two seconds, Ryan would change. Either he'd be staring off into space and acting really distant and not-Ryan, or he'd be freaking out and jumping into Shane's arms, or he'd be pissed off. The third was... intense. Ryan had never been angry at him, at least not so much that his red-hot fury would pin Shane to his seat. Maybe Shane thought it was a little hot, but there was never an opportunity for him to joke about it, because Ryan would be staring out the window again.

TJ and Devon stopped by early in the morning to say they were departing early to help a friend out with a project. Shane had told them it was fine, that they'd already filmed all of the good stuff, that the last day would be pretty calm and filled with sending emails and compiling credits. Before they could leave though, Shane stepped outside with them and expressed his concerns for his friend.

"Hey, uh." Shane scrubbed a hand over his face, "Ryan's acting strange, and I just. Has he told you anything? Like, did someone in his family die?"

"He wouldn't have told us before you," TJ said quietly, "Do you think someone actually died?"

"I don't know. It's just... weird." Shane glanced back into the house but turned and shrugged, "Anyway. Sorry, I just wanted to make sure I wasn't outta the loop."

"I get it," Devon gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder. "If you need anything, just call."

"Will do." Shane had watched them drive away with a rock in his stomach.

He had to do something. He couldn't handle another day and a half of this, and he certainly couldn't just go home and act as if this hadn't happened. Sure, it was odd and it was out of character and he felt like a real creep for even considering asking Ryan to clarify. But there wasn't much else to do. He'd be dead in the ground before he let Ryan leave.

"Hey, man." Shane sat on the edge of Ryan's bed. Ryan looked up from his phone.

"Hey." Ryan seemed normal. That was good.

"I really... I really need you to tell me what's going on," Shane said, his voice somewhat shaky. "Because, if I'm gonna be honest, you're scarin' me."

Ryan shook his head, "What do you mean, dude? I'm fine."

Shane gave him a long look, unconvinced. "Earlier, you got a beer from the fridge and just stood in the kitchen staring at it for, like, five minutes before you put it back."

"I decided I didn't want it." Actually, Ryan was worried about getting so drunk he would make a mistake.

"Ryan, I'm not stupid. I really don't want you to think that I'm stupid." Shane looked at his friend with eyes that may or may not have shown every emotion he'd been holding in for the past few days. "Just tell me what's going on."

"It's just nerves."

"We finished all the paranormal stuff."

"We're still in the building."

"Ghosts aren't real."

"That's not... I'm not..."

Shane rubbed his eyes in frustration. "Just tell me. I don't care."

The shorter man groaned and locked his phone, "It's... It's just... the house stuff, still."

Shane's hands fell into his lap. "Oh, _Ryan_..." His voice was fragile.

Ryan tilted his head. "What?"

"You... you still think it's the _house_ ," Shane said quietly.

"What.. I mean, of course it's the house." Ryan was smiling like Shane was going to realize something and smack his forehead, but it never happened. "Shane. It's just the house."

Shane stood up and put his hands on his face. "Ryan, ghosts aren't real."

"Yes, they are." Ryan's fists were clenched.

"Ryan, just..." Shane spoke, his words muffled. "I know it's very difficult for you to see me as someone you would consider being with, but this is really ridiculous."

Ryan looked down, his eyebrows drawing together. "I'm not..."

Shane let his hands fall again. He looked at Ryan. "I can't let you walk around looking traumatized because you can't admit that you have feelings for me. Okay? There."

Ryan blinked.

"And I... like, like you. Or whatever. Okay? Will that fix anything?" Shane's hands were hanging by his sides. His words and tone suggested they should be waving all over the place, but Shane was just laying his heart out there for his friend who still looked stony faced.

Then Ryan stood up. Shane thought maybe he was going to get a hug or something, but Ryan just walked around him toward the bathroom.

"Ryan."

Ryan kept walking.

Shane started moving before his brain could really catch him. He had Ryan's hand in his in two seconds, had Ryan's eyes looking up at him in three seconds, and was kissing Ryan in four. He felt Ryan squeeze his hand, and he felt pretty confident. He took his hands and slid them to Ryan's back, in somewhat of a comforting gesture.

The kiss wasn't too bad by itself. It was in a nice beach house with the noise of waves right outside of the window. He was just stressed out about what would happen next. Regardless of the anxiety, a warm feeling curled in his stomach and it was wonderful.

For a moment.

Until Shane pulled away and looked at Ryan. Ryan looked back at him, his eyes wide but his mouth curled into something unfamiliar. Between a frown and a sneer. Shane took his hands off Ryan and took five full steps away (until his back hit the wall).

"Sorry, was that overwhelming?" He asked. The reason he asked, of course, was because he wanted Ryan to say that it wasn't. He wanted Ryan to take that weird look off of his face and jump back into his arms. Or... say anything but the words he did.

"What the _fuck_ was that, Shane?"

Shane blinked. "Well, Ryan... I don't want to burst your bubble, but that was a kiss."

"No, I mean. Why? Did you do that?" Ryan lifted his hand and wiped his mouth. Shane didn't move, but his entire body felt like it was meant to be sinking through the floorboards. "What is wrong with you?"

Shane shook his head. "I thought. Well, you know. I thought that was what I was supposed to do."

Ryan's eyebrows drew impossibly closer, his eyes narrowing.

"You... uh." Shane rubbed the back of his neck to keep himself from pulling all of his hair out. "You said you've been thinking about me. Uh. And I thought. That, uh. It was. Um."

Ryan's gaze was not merciful. He just stood in the middle of the room, waiting furiously for an explanation that Shane didn't have.

"I thought we agreed it wasn't real."

"We didn't agree anything?" Shane chuckled nervously and a little bit to hide whatever childish emotion was crawling its way up his esophagus. "I said we should get lunch, and then we did. No agreements."

"I said that it would go away when we left the house, and you fuckin' nodded. That's an agreement, Shane." Ryan turned around and pinched the bridge of his nose. Shane was pinned against the wall by an unknown force and it felt like his heart was being clawed out of his chest.

"Alright. Nevermind, then." Shane choked out the words, pushing his hands into his pockets. "Sorry."

Ryan walked over to the conjoined beds, pulling them apart while Shane watched, leaning against the wall. Ryan's face was red and his hair was crazy and Shane's heart was actually breaking now - proper breaking, like he'd never be able to use it again. But he couldn't focus on that, because Ryan was walking out of the room with his bag.

"Where are you going?" Shane managed.

"I'm gonna sleep in the other room."

"Ryan, don't be ridiculous," Shane said, though everything was kind of ridiculous.

"Me? Ridiculous?" Ryan gave a loud fake laugh. "Sure, Shane."

"Ryan, we've still got night footage to record. You wanna just... randomly change the sleeping patterns that YOU came up with? How are you going to explain away the fact that, suddenly, we're in two separate rooms?" Shane took a step forward to follow Ryan, who was stopped in the doorway.

"If I need to explain," he said, looking over his shoulder, "I'll explain that I was sexually assaulted by a coworker."

Ryan was gone before Shane could blink.

That night, Shane pushed the beds together again and slept alone. He recorded a hasty "Ryan wants me to get sleep paralysis!" joke message into the camera before laying down, hugging a pillow to his chest. He didn't cry, which was surprising. Frankly, it was possible the salt in the air had dehydrated him too much for him to give any real tears. Which was lucky but also upsetting.

Shane could only think about Ryan. That he was probably in the other room, drafting an email to his boss to get Shane fired, trying to figure how he was going to keep doing the series without him. Shane figured he deserved that much - he didn't know what had gotten him to think it was okay to kiss Ryan. That was stupid.

At 2 am, after hours of laying awake and staring at the ceiling, Shane learned that he couldn't move his body. He didn't panic, he didn't see shadows, he didn't hear breathing beside his ear, he didn't experience anything that was interesting about sleep paralysis. It was just him and his thoughts, and it was torturous. He clenched his fists on and off for hours until the sun came up and he could finally escape.

He slipped out of the house and went for a walk on the beach.


	9. day five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really don't know why i make shane suffer in most of these stories but oh WELL.

Ryan woke up, absolutely weightless and well rested. At 8:30 am, he stretched his arms and rolled out of bed, packing up his clothes for the long trip home. He stripped the bed of the sheets and carried them downstairs to put them in the washer. He made coffee, he brushed his teeth, he changed his clothes. Normal things.

It was at 9:00 am when he saw Shane's note on the table.

Two things ran through his mind: either Shane went out to grab something, or he'd been possessed by whatever was in the house and was dead.

Ryan stumbled over his feet to reach the table, nearly spraining his ankle in the process. He picked up the note with shaking hands and held it up to his face.

 _RYAN,_  
_I DIDN'T GET POSSESSED BY ANYTHING AND DIE. I'M FINE._  
_AND I DIDN'T RUN AWAY._  
_I'M OUT AT THE BEACH. I'LL COME BACK BEFORE WE HAVE TO LEAVE._  
_NO WORRIES. :)_  
_EVERYTHING IS OK ~~BUDDY~~_  
_\- SHANE_

Ryan exhaled and ran his hand over his face. The events of the night before slowly washed over him and the weight returned to his shoulders. Kissing Shane. Yelling at Shane. Threatening to get him fired. Leaving Shane alone.

Ryan was unsure of what he could possibly do in the situation he'd put himself in. Or, well... Shane had put him in a position, and he put himself into this situation. It was all very complicated. But Ryan felt guilt, nonetheless.

Some, distant part of him told him that this was good, that Shane now knew that Ryan didn't want him in that way. There were better ways to tell him that, though.

Ryan found himself crossing the street in a matter of seconds. He wasn't sure why. He had nothing to say, and he didn't particularly want to see Shane any time soon - the embarrassment of having to reconcile with someone you were previously threatening was overtaking his thoughts.

Shane was half-sitting, half-laying on the edge of the sand, propped up on his elbows. His shoes were placed neatly beside him, though his hair was a mess, and the water was lapping at his feet. He hadn't seen Ryan yet - Ryan considered turning back and going back to the house, letting Shane approach him. But he didn't quite want that. He wanted to have some dignity in his effort.

He sat next to Shane in the sand, crossing his legs, keeping his eyes forward. "Any shark attacks?"

"Not yet," Shane's voice was unfamiliar. "Not too many people go swimming this early in the day."

Ryan nodded once, fixing his gaze on a buoy bobbing on the horizon. "When's our flight again?"

"3:45." Shane raked a hand through his hair, "What time is it now?"

"Almost 10."

Shane sucked a breath in through his teeth, "Jeez. That late?"

Ryan finally turned and looked at his friend. And he did look awful.

"Late?"

"I came out here at 3," Shane said with a quiet smile.

Ryan kept his mouth closed, though his jaw was desperate to drop. "Holy shit, man."

"I couldn't sleep," Shane said with red eyes, staring out at the ocean. He shrugged, trying to dull the blow of how absolutely wrecked he sounded. "But time flies when you're at the beach, I guess."

"Why didn't you, uh... go get some Nyquil or something?" Ryan felt like that was something he should say.

"Oh, I couldn't."

"Couldn't find it?"

"Couldn't move," Shane said dryly.

Ryan was struck straight in the chest by Shane's words. He was glad he was sitting down. Not only did Shane actually have sleep paralysis, but he went through it alone. Level-headed Ryan was wondering what it was like, not-so-level-headed Ryan wanted to wrap Shane in blankets and lull him into sleep for the two hours he could manage before they had to get on a plane home.

"Oh, I'm sorry, man," Ryan heard his own voice say, dull and emotionless. The water rose and brushed against the sole of his foot before receding.

"No problem." Shane picked up on it, his voice solemnly blank, "Sorry if the note I left made it seem like you had to come get me. I didn't mean for it to seem that way."

"No, I... just wanted to make sure you were good." Ryan lied through his teeth. He'd taken a million steps back from the progress he'd made, being comfortable with Shane, not being a dick. Not giving his friend such great amounts of stress that he self-induces paralysis.

"I told you not to worry in the note," Shane was smiling. "Did you think I died?"

"Yeah, I freaked out a little," Ryan looked back to the ocean.

"That's good," Shane replied. Ryan's heart ached.

"Are you packed?" Ryan said, unceremoniously moving the conversation elsewhere.

"Yep. All ready to roll whenever we go," Shane said. "Probably soon, though. The airport is awhile away."

"Yeah."

They sat looking at the ocean. At a loss for words, Ryan reached for Shane's hand, but Shane shook his head.

"Don't do that," he said quietly. "Please."

Ryan nodded soberly.

On the plane home, Shane tried to shield his phone screen from Ryan, but Ryan clearly saw Shane download what looked like hundreds of dating apps. Part of Ryan wanted to make a joke, but because he knew the reason, he didn't.


	10. night five

The plane landed at 7:30 pm. Shane was beside him on the plane, Shane was beside him in the jet bridge, Shane was beside him at the baggage claim. But then Ryan blinked, and Shane disappeared. He had strolled away as soon as he had all of his things, leaving Ryan to get into TJ's car alone. TJ had expressed concern with Ryan, though, instead of the missing man; he asked if Ryan was feeling better, and told him that Shane had been worried about him when they last spoke. That drove a nail right into Ryan's chest, but he laughed it off, saying it was just Regular Ol' Shane.

But the feeling that things weren't regular weighed heavily on him. He knew it was true; Regular Ol' Shane, at least the one he knew, would have come with them like usual, gotten a late dinner and hung out, making fun of Ryan until he had to go home. Or if he was going somewhere, he'd say SOMETHING. He wouldn't just disappear. But he did, and this was Ryan's wake up call.

Ryan's feelings were gone. He hadn't imagined Shane in any compromising positions, hadn't pictured Shane's hands on him underneath his shirt. He DEFINITELY didn't feel Shane's lips on his, definitely didn't feel the pressure of foreign fingers on the small of his back. He was absolutely cleansed of the possession and he was going to move on as such.

Ryan sent a farewell to TJ over his shoulder as he walked up the stairs to his apartment. And he was fine. He was good up until he'd just opened his door and realized that he'd be sleeping alone. And everything returned. A sucker punch to the chest.

He locked his door and ran back down the stairs.

Shane was actually ready to heal. He'd had the time to accept it, he'd bought an inhuman amount of junk food. He was ready to eat until he passed out, ready to spend the weekend mourning, and ready to return to work on Monday, ready for whatever pink slips or glares he would receive. He admitted his feelings, he fucked it up, and that was okay. There was nothing he could do about that. No need to worry over something he couldn't change, right?

Shane had all of his food laid out on the table, staring down at it with his hands on his hips.

"Not enough," he decided, pulling his phone out and getting more delivered.

This was how everyone acted when they were rejected, Shane was pretty sure. He wasn't sobbing, though, but the night was far from over. It was likely that as soon as his Postmates arrived, he'd open the door and immediately cry at the sight of someone else. But Shane was completely fine with that. He was going to go about this as healthily as possible. Crying was part of that.

Ryan wondered if he should text ahead, make sure Shane wasn't out on a date or whatever. But what would he say? "I need you to save yourself for me, though I'm the bane of your existence." No, he'd try his chances. If Shane wasn't there, then he'd try again another day. Maybe.

Ryan was at Shane's apartment in what felt like seconds. He didn't let himself think. He didn't let himself walk away. He just raised a hand and knocked.

Shane stood from the couch, checking his phone, surprised at the speed of his order. He was prepared for it to be wrong, but whatever. Food is food.

Shane opened the door to find Ryan standing there.

"It wasn't the house," Ryan murmured.

"... I know?" Shane looked at him, confused and a little awestruck. Ryan was actually in front of him. With his apology face on. "I told you that."

"Yeah, but I didn't believe you."

"That's typical."

"Can I just come inside?" Ryan nearly stomped his foot, but didn't at the risk of being called a kid again.

Shane just stepped to the side wordlessly. He repressed the hope that was welling up in his chest. Ryan looked great.

"How are you?" Ryan asked. It was a stupid question, Ryan grimaced at his delivery. Shane just looked at him with an amused smile. "Sorry. I... sorry."

"I'm doin' well," Shane said, and Ryan was glad to hear his voice. It was much more familiar. "You?"

"Well. As well. I am... uh, good," Ryan's hands were restless at his sides. His eyes landed on the coffee table full of food. "You havin' a party?"

"A party of one, yeah." Shane pointed to the TV, "I have a bunch of old, questionable movies tee'd up."

"Questionable?"

"Stuck on You and others," Shane said with a soft smile, "Good childhood movies that will make me feel guilty now. With my political correct adultness."

"Yeah, I understand now." Ryan looked back at him. "Questionable."

Shane ran a hand over his mouth, surveying his layout. The words were out before he could stop them, "Do you wanna stay?"

"Yes," Ryan said quickly.

"Okay, speedy." Shane smiled to no one in particular, still facing away from Ryan. "You want anything to drink?"

Some sort of alcohol was Ryan's first choice, but he really didn't want to mess this up. "You have Coke?"

"The fun kind? No," Shane said, though he headed to the kitchen anyway. "Sit on the couch, if you want."

"Where?"

Shane pivoted. "On... the couch?"

"...Yes."

"Ryan," Shane gave him a look that really made Ryan feel like he was small. It was very parental. "You've sat on a couch before. You've sat on MY couch before. Just fuckin'... park your ass."

Ryan blinked at him. Shane smiled and did a single (confusing) finger gun gesture before turning the corner into the kitchen. Ryan followed Shane's direction and sat on the couch, right against the right arm, leaving more than enough room for Shane to sit anywhere.

Ryan had no excuse to act so strangely while Shane was back to his old self. So he took a deep breath and relaxed, staring at the brightly colored menu screen.

"Here ya go," Shane flopped down on the couch, DIRECTLY next to him, handing him his soda. "Any other accoutrements I can bestow upon you tonight?"

Ryan made a face, "I don't think that word... means what you think it means."

Shane looked at him. Smirking. "I know what it means, Ryan. Do you know what it means?"

Ryan took a sip of his drink, his attention locked to the TV screen ahead.

Shane reached across Ryan to grab the remote that was perched on the arm. As soon as he hit play, he was in cringe mode. "Fuckkk. This is gonna be brutal."

Ryan nodded. "You could change it."

"Eh," Shane relaxed into the back of the couch, "This is reinforcing my cringe-tolerance."

"Not mine."

"You want me to change it?" Shane's eyes were hot on his face, and Ryan swallowed hard.

"Nah."

Shane hummed. They watched the movie, reveled in the nostalgia of an overplayed title sequence with bubbled letters, only froze when brushing against each other's shoulders every now and then.

"There's a whole couch, here, big guy," Ryan murmured about an hour into the movie.

"I know," Shane replied.

Ryan said nothing. He wasn't sure if this was the intention, but it truly felt as though Shane was testing him.

"You don't wanna scoot over...?"

Shane shook his head, "I'm fine."

Ryan didn't have anything to say.

"You realize, though... How fuckin'... Ancient-Catholic that is." Shane spoke, turning his body and throwing an arm to rest on the back of the couch, "Thinking you're possessed because you like a guy."

Ryan rolled his eyes, slightly understanding Shane's purpose. "Not Catholic."

"I'm just saying." Shane pulled at the hem of his pajama pants with his free hand.

"I didn't... look." Ryan sighed, and Shane's eyebrows raised in anticipation. "I hadn't really thought about you in... uh, that way-"

"A gay way," Shane prompted.

"-until we got into that house, so I thought that was the only explanation." Ryan took a deep breath as Shane snickered. "I'm sorry that I freaked out."

"Well, I shouldn't have sprung these lips on ya. They can overwhelm."

Ryan glared at him, "I'm trying to apologize."

"You already have. It's fine. I want to go back to making fun of you, now." Shane nodded in finality, turning forward and reaching his hand into the bag of popcorn, "And I won't take my shirt off in front of you anymore."

Ryan winced. "You don't... have to... stop..."

Shane shrugged, holding a smile in between his teeth. "Eh, I figure I shouldn't make you uncomfortable."

Ryan was 100 miles away from casual when he said, "It makes me very comfortable."

Shane smirked, tossing a kernel into his mouth.

"I'm very fuckin' gay, by the way."

Ryan choked on nothing. "O-Okay."

"You need another drink?"

"Nope. Fine," Ryan's voice cracked.

Shane stood up, "I'm gonna grab one."

"Cool."

Shane stood just as there was a knock on the door, and Ryan had never seen Shane so surprised and happy at the same time. Well, that wasn't completely true. He'd seen Shane's eyes light up on a few occasions.

"Ryan! Food's here."

Ryan squinted, "More food?"

"Yeah, I plan to eat until I black out," Shane said, opening the door and smiling at the man who stood there. "My hero!"

Ryan's stomach turned as the man smiled and handed Shane the bag. The man said something unintelligible and Shane laughed at it, and Ryan wanted to punch the guy in his stupid face.

"Thanks," Shane reached to the side to set the bag on the island before fishing his wallet out from his pajama pants pocket. "How much is it, again?"

"Twenty," said the man.

Ryan couldn't see Shane's face, but he was sure it was twisted into a smile, "Only twenty dollars?"

"You get the discount."

"Oh, nice!" Shane pulled out the bill and handed it to the man, "Because I order so much? That's kinda cool."

"No, but you're cute."

Shane threw a hand to his chest, "David!"

Ryan's fists clenched at his sides. He knew he shouldn't do anything, but as soon as 'David' asked for Shane's number, Ryan was on his feet.

"No, thanks. All good. Thanks for the delivery," Ryan said, brushing Shane to the side and blocking off the doorway, "But we're already... you know. Goodnight!"

The door closed and it was just Shane and Ryan again. Like it was supposed to be.

"Ryan," Shane said with a smirk, "Now, was that so hard?"

Ryan looked at him, his face red, his hands tense by his sides, "What?"

"Asserting your dominance over David the Delivery Man. Do you feel better?" Shane had his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the wall by the door frame.

"Shut up, Shane."

"I'm serious. How do you feel?"

Ryan looked at him. "I feel okay."

"That's good," Shane nodded, pausing for a moment before turning to grab his food.

"I don't know how to do this, so." Ryan spoke quickly, prompting Shane to look over his shoulder at him. "I need help."

Shane's eyes were easy. "Okay, buddy. I can help ya."

"I don't like it when other people flirt with you-"

"Maybe we should sit down for this?" Shane gestured to the couch.

Ryan shook his head. "I gotta do it now before I lose my train of thought."

"Well, alright." Shane leaned on the counter, "I'm not used to being seduced while standing, but. Go for it."

"I'm not - whatever, just..." Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose, "I don't like you with other people, okay? And I thought I was just jealous of the attention, but I don't like any of it. I don't want them to... like, pay attention to me, or anything. I just want them away from you."

Shane nodded, hiding a smile behind his hand.

"And I don't know... like, what that means, either. But I just want to stop doing this..." Ryan waved his hands around, "... dance we're doing."

Shane's eyebrows raised. "We're dancin'?"

Ryan's eyes fluttered closed and a nervous laugh escaped his lips, "Shane, you know what I mean."

"We're dancin', Ryan. Don't fight the rhythm," Shane stayed planted against the counter, not wanting to make Ryan panic. "I'm proud of ya, though. This is a big step."

"For a Bigfoot," Ryan agreed.

"Fuck you," Shane said, grinning.

"I'm sorry," Ryan said quickly. Shane's grin softened. "About being a dick. All the time. I don't know what to do with myself around you, anymore."

"Well, I'm sorry for kissing you." Shane replied, before pausing and continuing, "Or... I'm sorry for kissing you like that."

"It's okay." Ryan looked away, "Maybe you can do it better next time."

"I plan to," Shane said, finally pushing himself up.

"N-Not right now-"

"No, I know, Ryan." Shane gathered Ryan up into a hug, bending down and resting his chin on Ryan's shoulder. "It's okay."

Ryan let out a sigh, clutching the back of Shane's shirt. "I'm so tired of us being not okay."

"Me too," Shane said, closing his eyes. "I don't think we hug enough. This is... is very comfortable."

"Are we just gonna not let go?"

"I'm certainly not."

"But you have food."

"I don't care."

"I do."

"Oh, are you hungry?" Shane leaned back, not removing his arms from around Ryan's body.

Ryan shook his head, "Not really. Had dinner with Teege and Co. All good."

Shane returned to the hug, his cheek now on Ryan's head. "Just a few more minutes, then."

"You haven't eaten, though-"

Shane just shushed him and lifted him to walk toward the couch. Ryan banged on his back to let him down, muttering something about how "he isn't a kid" and that "Shane shouldn't treat him like one" but Shane clearly didn't care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've decided to do a quick bonus chapter after this one because damn it, I wanna make sure they definitely get together and I want Ryan to be cute with Shane for once.
> 
> so one more chapter. with angst-less fluff. for you, because i put you through a lot.


	11. bonus chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fluffy date content. yes.

"So," TJ emerged around the divider between the offices and the coffee station, holding his hands too-casually in his pockets. "How's it goin'."

"You're being weird," Shane said, not looking up from his stir stick. "Did I forget that I had to eat something gross every day this week? Because, if so, slap the cuffs on me."

"Ew, no." TJ leaned on the counter beside him, "How is it going... with you."

Shane shrugged, "I'm alright. Makin' coffee. Being accosted at work. How are you doin', bud?"

"No, Shane, just..." TJ rolled his eyes. "With Ryan. What's going on with Ryan?"

"Well, uh..." Shane leaned backward, glancing toward his desk. "He seems to be working diligently on - _what the hell?_ "

TJ smacked his shoulder. "Dating. Are you dating, or not?"

"I don't know," Shane said, honestly. "I don't think Ryan's ready for that, yet."

"For a date?" TJ gave him a look, "Dates are easy, dude."

"I mean, like... the being seen part, you know?" Shane finally looked at TJ, who was nodding. "I have a feeling the context of this particular relationship is a lot for him, so we're taking it slow."

"You're not taking it at all."

"We hugged!" Shane said enthusiastically, jazz hands included. "So that was cool."

"What, a week ago?"

"... Week and a half." Shane looked at him, "Doesn't matter, because he's at least considering it, so I'm happy."

"Hm. Alright." TJ began to walk away.

"Hey, can you be a little more ominous, please?" Shane called after him, picking up his coffee and heading toward his desk.

Devon intercepted him, turning him around and walking him into the VO booth.

"Wha-"

"We've got to touch up your VO," Devon said quickly, shoving him into the booth, "It was your choice to sit on a windy porch, the audio is fucked to hell."

"Hey, I need to get my - "

The door closed and Shane was left inside.

"You couldn't have, uh..." He looked around, "...turned a light on?"

Ryan jumped as TJ leapt into Shane's chair, swiveling to look at him.

"Hey," he said with a smile, "How's it goin'?"

"It's goin' alright," Ryan said, his eyebrows drawn together. "Where's Shane?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" TJ said cryptically.

"I... do, actually." Ryan spun around in his chair, making sure the lummox wasn't behind him, ready to pounce. "Do you know where he is?"

"No idea. Look, are you two okay?"

Ryan squinted, "Did he... put you up to this?"

"I don't know where he is." TJ said. Devon walked beside him and they shared an ominous high five in passing. "I'm just curious, as your friend."

"... We're fine."

"Healthy and everything?" TJ pressed.

"Yes..."

"Have you moved in yet?"

"What? No." Ryan sputtered, turning back to his computer and opening his email. "Why would we do that?"

"Because you're dating."

"No, we're not." Ryan said definitively, a laugh peppered in for good measure. "Just good buddies."

"That go to each other's house every night, watch movies, hold hands and cuddle?"

"We don't cuddle."

"Is that really the only factor that you're - okay." TJ rolled closer to Ryan, placing a hand on his shoulder. "How many other people have you held hands with in the past month?"

"One," Ryan said naturally. "But it's more of a comfort thing. Between friends."

"How many other people have you gone out with in the past month?" Ryan opened his mouth. "Excluding work." Ryan closed his mouth.

"...One."

"Okay, and how many people have you hugged in the past month? Excluding family members?"

Ryan shook his head. "This feels like blackmail."

"I've got nothin' against you, I'm just saying that this is brutal."

Ryan shook his head, checking his phone. "Shane went to get coffee, like, 15 minutes ago."

"Aw," TJ gushed, "Are you worried about him? That's sweet."

Ryan glared at him. "Where is he?"

"VO booth," TJ handed him the keys with a smirk.

"You locked him in there?" Ryan said, amused but a little worried for TJ's sanity. "Did he do somethin' to you, Teege?"

"He's just a hostage. Go get 'em!"

Ryan may have walked a bit slower to the VO booth than he should have, still skeptical about Shane's involvement in the entire situation. However, once he unlocked the door and saw Shane sitting on the ground with his legs crossed in a basket, holding a hand over his eyes to block out the bright light, it was clear that Shane hadn't done this to himself.

"... God?" Shane whispered dramatically.

"No, Shane."

"No, that's definitely... Definitely God," Shane grabbed Ryan's hands as they were outstretched, groaning as he was pulled to his feet. "Oh, look. An angel."

"I'll lock you back in."

"Was that your idea?" Shane asked wearily, looking at the keys in Ryan's hands. "I'm sorry for putting all the good coffee on the top shelf, it's just more convenient for me. I swear it isn't a jab against you - "

"It wasn't my idea, dipshit. TJ gave me the keys after interrogating me," Ryan scanned over Shane's face. "Are you okay? You're squinting like you're an old man. Oh, wait."

"Ryan." Shane swatted Ryan's hands away, "It's too early for this."

"Sorry," Ryan spared a laugh and Shane's eyes opened a bit. "Did they interview you as well?"

"A bit." Shane rubbed at the back of his neck, opening his mouth to say something, but snapping it closed. "Oh, well. Back to work, then."

Shane tossed his now-empty cup into the trash and began to walk to his desk, Ryan skipping to catch up with his long legs.

Everything else was normal. Shane and Ryan grabbed lunch together, sitting one seat away from each other, got feedback on various projects, ignored the fact that TJ and Devon would often dip into their space to see what was up.

Ryan caught Shane just before he was about to go, grabbing his jacket sleeve.

"You okay, Ryan?" Shane asked seriously, looking around. "Is Teege lurking around here, somewhere?"

"No," Ryan let go of his sleeve and awkwardly ran his palms over his legs, "I was just gonna ask if you wanna watch a movie, tonight?"

"Well... yeah," Shane narrowed his eyes, "Were we not going to, anyway?"

"No, we were, I meant... like in a theater."

Shane nodded cautiously, "Sure? I thought you didn't like theaters."

"They're fine?" Ryan said, briefly remembering telling Shane that they should just watch movies in their apartments because theaters freaked him out. That wasn't necessarily the case. "But if you don't wanna, that's fine."

"No, I do. I was just checking," Shane said. "Want me to wait for you?"

"Yeah, we can just go from here." Ryan picked up his bag and swept his things inside, "What kind of movie do you wanna watch?"

"I'm not picky. I'm ecstatic that we get to go out tonight, though," Shane admitted. "Movie popcorn is better than grocery-store movie popcorn."

"Right," Ryan stood, his hand on the strap of his bag, "We watched a sports doc last time, so I'll be okay with a scary movie. Just this once."

Shane looked around, "Okay, Ryan. This is getting spooky, now. Are you... sick? Did TJ bribe you with something?"

"What, can I not just go to a movie theater with my friend?"

Shane shrugged, though he was glad that he knew Ryan's intentions were platonic. He'd avoid the hand holding, this time. "I guess not. It's just... abrupt."

"I'm spontaneous."

"No, you're not," Shane laughed, turning to head toward the exit. Ryan followed. "But I'll take it. I like a good adventure."

"What movie do you wanna watch?" Ryan asked, sliding into the driver's seat of his car, smothering a laugh as Shane tried to get his long limbs into his compact car.

"I haven't seen A Quiet Place yet," Shane offered, glancing to Ryan for a reaction.

"Sounds good."

Ryan put on music and Shane kept staring at the side of his head. Ryan would spare semi-assuring glances to him at various points during the drive, but Shane's gaze didn't falter.

"Do I have something on the side of my head?"

"Maybe," Shane smirked and turned around to look out the window. "Are we going to the place with the nice seats?"

"Yep," Ryan said.

"Huh."

Ryan didn't know how to respond, so he didn't.

"That theater is expensive, though," Shane continued as he pressed his forehead to the cold window, "We can go to the cheap place, Ryan, you don't need to seduce me."

"I'm not..." Ryan trailed off. Because he kind of was.

Shane jumped out of the car as soon as it stopped in the parking garage. "Movie time!"

"You're excited. Woah, look how excited you are!" Ryan was amazed by how glittery Shane's eyes were.

"We never go out! This is awesome. It's really hitting me, now," Shane said, bouncing up and down on his toes.

"Calm down, big guy." Ryan grabbed Shane's hand, Shane presumed to calm him down, but when they started to walk toward the theater, Ryan didn't drop his hand.

As they started to get closer to the tall building, Shane began to get antsy. He watched Ryan's hand cautiously, waiting for it to drop or waiting for Ryan to find an excuse to use that hand, but they were crossing the street before he knew it and getting dangerously close to the doors.

"Ry," Shane said quietly, swinging their arms. "You've still got my hand."

"Yeah," Ryan replied, pushing the door open and walking in. Shane followed close behind.

"People are gonna see you," Shane reminded him.

"Yeah."

Shane's face was bright red when they reached the ticket booth. He kept his hope in the palm of his free hand, not wanting to force Ryan into anything. Especially cautious, as TJ could be hiding underneath the concession stand somewhere, and he didn't want to risk embarrassment.

They had to part to hold their food (two drinks, one large popcorn, four hands). Shane nearly whined, but he didn't. He had to take things slow. They were taking things slow.

They'd gotten there early enough to get decent seats, but with the incline, any seat was decent. Shane was humming with excitement; he hadn't gone to this theater in years. It had really improved.

"Reclining seats, Ryan," Shane pressed a button and the seat whirred, unfolding into a bed-time lounge chair. "I'm gonna pass out."

"Don't do that."

"I won't actually, but... this is crazy, right!" Shane clicked the other button and it pulled him up into a sitting position. "We're so in the future."

Ryan just watched Shane and wondered why he'd been so nervous about going out with him. Shane was just Shane. And he was cute.

"You're cute," Ryan's mouth said before his brain could grab the words and stuff them into its pockets.

Shane paused in his second descent, looking at Ryan with a soft countenance. Everything about Shane seemed to be soft. There was no other word for him. Other than insufferable. "You're cuter."

"Maybe in a different way," Ryan offered, and Shane nodded.

The lights dimmed. Ryan smacked Shane's hand away from the buttons before he could sit all the way up again. Ryan reclined his chair to be level with Shane's. He held his hand out expectantly.

Shane saw it and placed the popcorn bag in his palm. Ryan rolled his eyes. "No."

Shane carefully removed the bag and offered his drink.

"No, Shane."

Shane set the drink into the cup holder and reluctantly aligned his palm with Ryan's. Fingers laced with his and Shane sighed.

"Thanks," Shane said, immediately cursing himself. "Sorry, that was. Uh. Dumb."

Ryan smiled and turned forward. "A little bit."

Shane's never been one to hold hands through an entire movie, but he'd be damned if he did this time. He would have to watch the movie again in his home because like hell was he focusing on the screen - all he could focus on was Ryan. Ryan would squeeze his hand whenever things got even barely tense. Once, even, Ryan placed his other hand ON TOP of Shane's hand.

"Hand sandwich," he whispered at a very inappropriate time, causing Ryan to choke out a laugh. "Suh-hand-wich."

The movie, it seemed, was good. John Krasinski screamed at one point, which had Ryan completely panicking. But it was nice.

When they left the theater, Ryan was babbling on about how wonderful the movie was. Shane just nodded, though he had a million sappy responses on the tip of his tongue.

"That was fun," Ryan concluded as they slid into their respective seats.

"Agreed," Shane pulled the seatbelt out too fast and it jolted back. "I need one of those special chairs at work."

"You really don't."

"I really do, Ryan."

When Shane turned back around, Ryan's hands were on his chin and there were lips on his and he almost cried. Sure, their teeth clicked together a bit, but that was okay. Everything was okay. Ryan was okay, and it made Shane feel stellar.

Ryan pulled away and put the car into drive, reversing out of his parking spot as if nothing had happened. Shane found it difficult to relax, so he just put his hands on his scrunched-up knees and kept his eyes forward.

"Wait..." Shane said as Ryan pulled into his complex. Ryan looked at him expectantly, watching as Shane pieced everything together. "This was a date."

"... Yes, Shane."

Shane's face lit up, "Holy shit, you took me out!"

"... Yes, Shane."

"That's so fuckin' cute," Shane pressed his hands to his cheeks, "I got kissed on a first date."

"You got kissed before a first date."

"Yeah, I guess I did." Shane relaxed a bit, a smile painted onto his lips. "This is nice."

"What?"

"Getting pampered," Shane opened his car door. "Makes me feel like the princess I'm not. You comin' up?"

"Do you want me to?" Ryan was nervous again.

Shane shrugged. "You can, if you want. I was thinkin' about cleaning my closet out."

Ryan grinned, the pressure washing away. "That's hot."

Shane threw his head back in laughter, his hands on his hips.

"Tell me more."

"... Probably gonna..." Shane struck a pose, "Order some throw pillows on Amazon."

"... _More_ ," Ryan said, fake breathless.

"Gonna wash some dishes."

"Yeah, I'm going up with you," Ryan said, throwing his seatbelt off. Shane had to brace himself against the car to keep himself from keeling over.

"You've changed," Shane said quietly as they walked hand in hand up the stairs. "Treating me to a date and such. Very different Ryan than the one that's been coming around for a few weeks."

"Yeah, well. I figure it's real if you'll hold my hand for an hour and a half, non-stop."

"My right hand, too. I had to use my left to go on my phone and stuff," Shane waved at him, "The struggles I go through for you to be content."

"Shut up, Shane. I'm trying to be sweet."

"It's still in my best interest to annoy you until you hate me."

"I don't think I could ever hate you," Ryan said quietly, knocking his shoulder into Shane's.

Shane pulled his keys out, looking down at him. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well, then." Shane pushed the door open. "I'm gonna have to try harder then."

Ryan backed himself inside, waggling his eyebrows, feeling looser than ever. "You ready to spring clean in summer?"

"I'm so ready."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has been such a blast. big thank you to everyone who has commented and given kudos because oh boy it's been awesome to have an actual response (i expected like 2 hits so who knows).
> 
> see ya around!


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